” “You have it,” he declared confidently. “It was poison—why not?” she answered. A pair of long-lashed blue eyes studied them both as she slowly brought her hands down to rest by her sides. “It’s unforgivable of me to call, Miss Stanley,” he said, shaking hands in a peculiar, high, fashionable manner; “but you know you said we might be friends. Laying these carefully aside, he restored the drawer to its place. I tried painting and couldn’t get on. " "Because he said he was a Yale man?" "That might be it. Then the work is optional; they go on their own.
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